


Thirty-Six

by SunriseRose1023



Series: Tumblr Number Drabbles [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Implied/Referenced Cheating, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-04-28 15:10:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5095262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunriseRose1023/pseuds/SunriseRose1023
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I wish I could hate you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thirty-Six

**Regrets**

I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

I was, of course, breathing. Somehow. I couldn’t look into the corner of the motel room, at the man who was bent over in the chair with his head in his hands, breathing audibly. Neither one of us were crying, but I’m sure that’s coming. 

I could see him out of the corner of my eye, and every time he lifted his head, I looked away. It seemed juvenile to me, but I could do whatever I wanted right then. God knows he certainly had.

“Babe?”  
“Don’t call me that. You don’t get to call me that anymore.”

I looked over in time to see him close his eyes, a look of pain on his face. A sick part of me thought _Good_ , because as much pain as I was in right now, he needed to feel some, too. 

“I’m so sorry.”  
“Yeah, you said that already.”

I felt like I was going to burst out of my skin, so I stood up. His head shot up, and the terror on his face somehow reached my heart. I shook my head, turning away from him to pace my side of the suddenly too-small room. After a few minutes, I grabbed the lamp from the bedside table, yanking the plug out of the wall, and I turned, throwing the lamp at him. He ducked—years as a hunter had sharpened his senses so well that he’d probably figured out what I was doing before I did—and brought those green eyes to me. The words spilled out from my lips.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

He hung his head again, but I couldn’t stop.

“How could you do this? The one thing, Dean. The _one_ thing you _knew_ was a deal-breaker for me.”  
“I don’t know. I didn’t mean to—“  
“You didn’t mean to?! What were you trying to put it in, her purse?!”

Sometimes I really hated my TV addiction and my ability to bring a quote into any conversation. Now was _not_ the time for a _Friends_ quote. I pushed a hand through my hair then turned away from him again.

“I can’t believe you.”  
“You have to believe how sorry I am.”  
“No, Dean, I don’t _have_ to do anything.”

I let out a laugh, turning back to face him.

“I used to think that I _had_ to tell you everything. That I _had_ to trust you, because you gave me your word.”  
“I—“  
“But your word is shot to shit now, don’t you think?”

He shut his mouth at that, hanging his head again. I shook my head, letting out a sigh, feeling the hard edge of anger slipping away. Sadness, if not the beginning tendrils of depression was starting to sink in, along with those old familiar feelings of inadequacy. I was running the gamut of emotions tonight. 

I sat down on the edge of the bed, seeing Dean glance my way at the creak of the bedsprings. I lifted my head to look at him, and my voice was small and quiet.

“What did I do?”  
“What?”

He looked completely taken aback, as if I’d just asked him why we hunted the things we did. He blinked his gorgeous eyes and I took in a shaky breath.

“Why wasn’t I good enough for you?”

I looked down at my hands a second before jean-covered knees were in my vision. I lifted my head as Dean reached over to take my hands.

“You listen to me right now. You did nothing wrong. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. _I_ fucked up. I’m the one who made the mistake here. You … you’re perfect. I don’t deserve you; I never have. And now I … I guess I proved it.”

We were a hell of pair, Dean Winchester and I. He had such overwhelming feelings of self-hatred and I was so insecure. He threw himself whole-heartedly into each hunt, and came out either on top of the world if we won, or scraping the bottom if we didn’t. I was quiet and calculating, much better at research than anything physical. We sort of balanced each other out, in a weird, co-dependent way. 

And then two weeks ago, Dean did the unforgivable. We’d lost too many people, one a close hunter friend, to a stupid werewolf, and we got into a stupid fight. I can’t even remember what the fight was about now. But Dean stormed out and I woke up alone the next morning. I thought about getting a bus ticket to go to Bobby’s, or even to California to bug Sam at school, but I didn’t. I stayed, and when Dean came back, smelling like a brewery and looking like hell warmed over, I didn’t say anything. I helped him get in the shower and went to pay for another night in the hotel. 

I guess when he apologized so much as I helped him to bed, I should have asked more questions. 

I took in a breath, letting it out slowly. I shook my head, feeling tears well up in my eyes. I tried to blink them back, but it was no use. They slid down my cheeks anyway. I let out a laugh, and Dean looked up, his green eyes locked onto mine. I shook my head again, speaking softly.

“I wish I could hate you.”

He nodded slowly.

“I hate myself enough for the both of us.”

I couldn’t help the sob this time.

“How could you do it?”  
“I wasn’t thinking. I was drunk, and I know that’s no excuse. I don’t remember anything except waking up with her and feeling sick to my stomach. I have hated myself ever since that moment.”  
“Were you ever going to tell me?”

Dean sighed, closing his eyes.

“I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to hurt you like this, and I think I’ve hurt you worse instead.”

I nodded my head. 

“I want to hate you. I wish I could hate you, but I … I can’t.”  
“You should. You should walk away right now. I wouldn’t blame you if you did.”  
“Really?”

He nodded.

“So I should just pack my shit and go? That will make this all better?”  
“You could get out. Get away from me and live a good life.”

I sniffled and nodded my head, pulling out of his grasp and standing up, moving to pick up my bag from the floor. I heard him gasp for breath, but I didn’t look over at him. I couldn’t. I grabbed clothes and my things from the bathroom and threw them in the bag, until I couldn’t see anymore, thanks to the tears ruining my vision. I sank down to the floor, pulling my knees up and resting my forehead on them. 

I looked over to see Dean propped up against the bed, one knee drawn up, one long leg stretched out. He had one arm over his drawn-up knee, and his head was back against the bed. Tears were cascading silently down his face, and I couldn’t breathe again. 

I crawled over to him, climbing into his lap and burying my face in his chest. His strong arms came around me easily, and I sobbed. I felt Dean’s hands in my hair, holding me close to him.

“Don’t leave me. Please, god, don’t go. I’ll do better. I promise I’ll be better if you stay.”

His words just made me cry harder, and I clutched his flannel shirt in my hands. He couldn’t stop begging me to stay, promising he’d do better, and when his voice lost its panicky tone and he couldn’t speak through the tears, I broke. 

I moved up and took his face in my hands, kissing him hard. He shook his head, but I just tightened my grip on his face. After he’d given in and kissed me back, I pulled away just enough to look into his sorrow-filled green eyes.

“You can be a fucking idiot sometimes, Winchester.”  
“I know.”

His words were soft, and I squeezed his face slightly, causing him to look back at me.

“I love you.”

I tried not to notice the shock that rolled through his beautiful features, or the hope that painted his tear-streaked face.

“It’s going to take a long time for me to trust you again, and I don’t think I’ll be able to watch you go to a bar by yourself.”  
“Whatever it takes, I’ll do it. I will, baby, I’ll do whatever you want.”

I closed my eyes, and he leaned over to kiss my forehead. I blinked to see him looking at me, and I shook my head slightly.

“If you ever do something this damn stupid again, I will rip off your balls and feed them to you. Understand?”

Dean nodded, and I let out a breath before I did the same. I stood up with a groan, dusting off my jeans before holding my hand out to him. Dean took it and stood beside me, and I sighed.

“I’m too tired to think and my head hurts.”  
“Let’s go to bed.”

I nodded, and he kept hold of my hand as he led me to the bed, laying down and stretching his bowed legs. I smiled, then crawled in beside him, curling up next to him and resting my head against his chest. He put his arm around me, fingers gently playing with the ends of my ponytail, and his voice was the last thing I heard before I drifted off to sleep.

“Thank you. I love you.”


End file.
